We get lost going to Kathy’s house because we have the wrong
address, but finally arrive.

Kathy: “It will probably take about 2 months to get your
replacement passport.”

Ni: “Two months!? But I ready now. Maybe in Goleta it will
be quicker.”

Smiling patiently Kathy: “It will about the same no matter
where you go.”

Me: “Besides it will take about 2 months to pack and get
your affairs in order.”

Ni: “I pack quickly.”

Kathy: “It will still take about 2 months for your
passport.”

Another mighty sigh.

As we drive to get the passport pictures, I park in the
wrong block and we must walk an extra two blocks. I’m worried that it might be
too much for Master Ni at 93. But he does just fine – leading me up and
down two flights of stairs rather than taking the elevator, in addition to the
two extra blocks to and for it takes to get to the camera store.

Me: “Some days are just hard.”

Ni sighs again: “Today a hard day for me. Only one hour of
sleep last night. Many thoughts no matter how much I meditate.”

Me: “But then deep in meditation you finally heard the voice
that said ‘Go to China’. And you must obey.”

Ni: “Right. Time. Very hard.”

On Monday we filed for the replacement passport papers and
turned most of his fixed Certificates of Deposit into liquid CDs - complete
with ATM card for use in China. His aura brightened noticeably upon the
completion of these tasks. He even proudly told the lady at the bank: “I’m 93.
I bet you didn’t know that.”

Smiling Lady: “Wow! You look great.”

Ni is beaming now that we’ve completed our business.

As we’re driving Ni: “Thank you. Today you helped me out a
lot.”

Me: “My pleasure. Did you sleep well after making your
decision and taking care of business?”

Ni: “Much better. 5 hours of sleep last night.”

So now it’s Tuesday mid morning and Master Ni has gone from
frazzled senior citizen to enlightened master. We walk down the 100 steps from
Shoreline Park to the beach. The tide is high and there are only slim patches
of dry sand punctuated by rocky outcroppings. Barefoot I walk in the ocean.
Dressed in tennis shoes he attempts to avoid getting wet. But then the tide
rushes in dowsing both his shoes and pants. Rather than turn back he adopts a
more nonchalant attitude to the erratic tidal waves lapping the shore. We
traverse through five or six more of these jutting promontories, where the
ocean touches the land on the inward rush of the waves. He gets wet a few more
times but doesn’t seem to mind. He seems to relish every moment here as if it
is last.

Me: “I remember coming here with my wife before we were
married.”

Ni: “40 years ago. So quick.”

And the transience of life passed through my consciousness
and resided there.

At a distinct time with no hesitation Ni: “Time to go back.”

We walk up the stairs and reach a landing.

Ni: “Must rest. At 93, more difficult. In my 80s no matter
how hide the tide I jump from rock to rock. Very good for balance. But now time
for quiet.”

As we sat on the wooden platform overlooking the sparkling
waves on that perfect day we experience an intimate moment of exquisite
silence.

Looking through the slats of the stairs I notice a couple
taking pictures. I closed one eye inadvertently and noticed I could only see
the young lady. Experimenting I shut the other eye and could only see the man.
But with both eyes open I could see them both without any obstruction. My mind
had filtered out the slats and replaced them with a holistic vision of the
couple. I relayed this to Master Ni.

Ni: “Mind very powerful. Sees and wants. Must eliminate
desire.”

Me: “Not easy.”

Ni: “Unite jing, chi, shen as One. Than blend lights,
internal and external, with integrated energy. This is the Way.”

Me: “External light important?”

Ni: “Very. This is why must have eyes open when meditating.
Lets light in.”

As we drove along Cabrillo Boulevard towards East Beach, he
reflected upon which of the beaches he had been to and that he had taught Tai
Chi at the Cabrillo Recreation Center, when he first arrived in Santa Barbara
– over 30 years ago. As we saw the young joggers and volley ball players
at the beginning of their lives it evoked a bittersweet mood of melancholy
nostalgia.

Upon reaching his home Ni: “You have time to take me up to
the Mesa to get some filtered water?”

Me: “Of course.”

We arrived at the water dispensers on top of the Mesa - a
steep quarter mile from his house.

Ni: “You go home now.”

Me: “I’d be glad to wait.”

Ni: “I walk home.”

Driving home I experienced sharp pangs of grief. From what?
My Mind was fine with his decision. I knew it was the right one – all
things considered. But my Body was suffering from a deep sense of loss that I
was about to separated from my spiritual Master forever – the One who had
persistently and patiently guided me through my Life’s course for over 30 years
– ironically with very little words, primarily by example. And I shed
more than a few tears as I write this – suppressing some involuntary sobs
– probably because I sense that the Ni era is about to end.